


Snowblind

by kuro



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Early in Canon, Feelings, Fluff, Kidnapping, M/M, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 09:23:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2807510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro/pseuds/kuro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Iron Man's insistence, Tony Stark gets involved in an Avengers mission. Unfortunately, things go very, very wrong, and Steve and Tony get kidnapped. Emotional turmoil ensues (mostly on Steve's side).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snowblind

Technically, the mission should have been easy.

The Avengers had discussed the situation back and forth in detail. They couldn’t settle on a plan first, one that would have reasonably good chances that it would work and that they could all agree on. Eventually, after many dead ends and a lot of encouragement from Iron Man’s side, they decided to ask Tony Stark for help. And to everyone’s surprise, Mr. Stark had easily agreed with their plan.

To be honest, Steve had not been very happy with that specific plan from the beginning, since it would put Mr. Stark into the direct line of danger. He couldn’t help but ask Mr. Stark repeatedly if he really was sure he wanted to do it, even after Mr. Stark had already agreed. Iron Man wouldn’t be there to protect him, since the armour was much too eye-catching, and Mr. Stark had really no reason to put himself in danger for them. On the contrary. He was, after all, both a very important person as well as their financial backing, and really wasn’t supposed to actively put himself in danger just so they would have it _easier_. But Mr. Stark had only shrugged and told him with a smile that after all, Captain America would serve as his bodyguard instead; that was all the security he needed.

Steve was a little flattered by Mr. Stark’s apparent trust, but he was also worried. To involve a civilian in their missions was really not a habit they should get into.

But with Tony Stark on board, their plan would be very easy: Mr. Stark would go and initiate a meeting with their target, feigning interest in a business deal. Steve would accompany him, acting as his bodyguard. During the meeting, Mr. Stark would cause a bit of an uproar, making sure that everyone was distracted. While everyone was busy, Ant-Man and the Wasp would sneak in and get access to some highly sensitive documents about human trafficking that had become a huge problem lately, and had cost them already several lives. By the time the uproar had passed, they would be finished with their spying mission, and Mr. Stark and Steve would leave as well, their negotiations apparently fruitless.

There. Simple and quick.

Iron Man even assured him that there was no reason to worry, right before Steve and Mr. Stark left for the meeting. He knew that Steve had been worried even after the decision had already been made, and the two of them had had some intense discussions about it. But for once, Iron Man kept stubbornly insisting that this really was the best (and only) way. Steve had a hard time understanding why his best friend suddenly was so unconcerned with the life of his boss (that he was supposed to be protecting), but Mr. Stark had already agreed, and the preparations had gone ahead, and Steve had eventually caved at some point. He kept worrying about it, either way.

“Hey, Winghead,” Iron Man had said before they had parted ways. As always, he had squeezed Steve’s shoulder lightly with his gauntleted hand, the small touch cheering up him as easily as always. “Don’t frown so much. It’ll be fine. I’ll be waiting here for you, okay? We could watch a movie afterwards, if you want.”

Despite their disagreements, Steve had had to smile. “Only if we can watch a really old one.”

Iron Man had given him one of his odd, distorted laughs, but he had easily agreed to it.

It made Steve feel a lot better, somehow. It made him feel like he wasn’t stepping into unknown territory on his own.

* * *

 

At first, it seemed like Iron Man would proven right. Everything went according to plan, and Mr. Stark, frankly, was a marvellous actor. While Steve had known that Mr. Stark was well-known as a businessman, Steve had only ever experienced him as busy but generous to a fault, and as a man always willing to help. The easy arrogance he displayed during the meeting came almost as a shock. Well, maybe it was also part admiration. Steve himself had never been good at playing the crowds, and Mr. Stark was a wholly different level.

It might have been the fact that he let himself get distracted by Mr. Stark, or maybe Steve had just been not cautious enough in general. Only much too late did he realise that something was off, and the moment he tried to signal Mr. Stark that they needed to get out of here, _now_ , it was too late. Something very hard and heavy hit him at the back of his neck, and he knew no more.

* * *

 

When Steve woke up and opened his eyes, he was greeted by complete darkness. For a few moments, he was utterly overwhelmed and disoriented, so he took calming breaths and went through his usual check list. (That there _was_ a usual check list probably said something about his life. Not that Steve wanted to think about that too hard.) It was fine, he reminded himself. Everything would turn out okay. He had it under control. His body seemed fine, nothing was hurting. He didn’t seem to be tied down or chained, which was a definite plus. He was lying on a cold, hard floor, concrete. The room he was in must be small, no windows, bare walls. And there was another person in here with him.

Carefully, he reached out, following the sounds of shallow breathing. Eventually, he reached the source, touching a limp body. A quick check of the face left him relieved – the unconscious person on the floor was Mr. Stark, judging from the facial hair. Which meant they had most likely been abducted. Had Ant-Man and the Wasp been taken, too? Steve hoped not. He could only hope they had managed to escape even if they had been discovered. They had a much better chance at escaping, too, since they were extremely difficult to catch when they were shrunk to insect size. No one would have been able to catch them. He had to believe in that.

He shook his head. What if’s were completely useless now. What mattered at the moment was bringing Mr. Stark out of here. Wherever ‘here’ might be. Not that that made much of a difference. Steve had to get him out of here, no matter how.

God, what a fool he had been. He should have never listened to Iron Man and given in to him. He had known it was a dumb idea, and dangerous to boot. And look at that; he had been right. Iron Man usually gave him good advice; why had he been so utterly wrong this time? Why had he been so insistent that Mr. Stark should be part of this mission?

Never mind all of this right now – he needed to get them out of here. He needed to bring Tony Stark back alive and well. How could he face Iron Man and the rest of the Avengers if he failed? He was supposed to make sure that Mr. Stark was safe, and instead, he had gotten them both abducted.

God, everyone had trusted him and he had gotten _distracted_. By the person he was supposed to protect, no less.

Somewhere in the middle of his self-flagellation, Mr. Stark made a sudden noise.

“Mr. Stark?” Steve tried.

“…Captain?” came the reluctant answer. Steve sighed with relief; Mr. Stark had finally woken up, and he seemed aware of his surroundings. (There was a tiny sliver of egoistic relief in Steve’s heart. He wasn’t alone in this dark room anymore. He hadn’t ended up in some unknown place completely on his own, once more. Which was a really horrible thought to think. He needed to stop that.)

“I think we got abducted,” Steve informed him. “But I’ll bring us out of here, don’t worry.”

“Do you know where we are?” Mr. Stark asked. Rustling sounds, and then a searching hand fumbled through the dark, finding Steve’s arm and wandering up and down, probably making sure that he really _was_ Steve.

“No.” Steve sighed. “But it doesn’t matter. I promise I’ll bring you back, unharmed. I’m so sorry. I put you in danger and failed my duty.”

“Don’t,” Mr. Stark interjected sharply. “I was the one who put myself in danger. It wasn’t your fault. Don’t blame yourself.”

Steve had a lot to say to that, but just this moment, he could hear someone coming closer and unlock the door. Before he really made a conscious decision, he was already at the door, grabbed the armed guard that came through and punched him unconscious. A twist and a jump, and he was right next to the guard still outside. Only a second later, said guard made an unfortunate acquaintance with the wall. No one else was outside, and by the looks of it, there were also no cameras. Steve sighed. Did they really think that would be enough to keep him from fleeing?

“The hallways is clear, Mr. Stark,” he called out. “How are you with weapons?”

“You’re aware that you’re talking to the guy who _produces_ weapons?” Mr. Stark asked, stepping out of the dark cell into the crummy but well-lit hallway, blinking. His hair was sticking into all directions and his tie was askew, but he looked completely fine otherwise. “Of course I know how to use weapons.”

“Great,” Steve said, stripping the guards of everything that looked potentially useful (not much) and handing Mr. Stark one of the guns. “There you go. If something happens, don’t hesitate to shoot.”

“Don’t worry, this is hardly my first ride,” Mr. Stark said. He quickly and expertly checked over the gun, making sure that everything was in order.

Steve quietly wondered if Mr. Stark really was aware what shooting someone without hesitance meant. But then, something must have happened to warrant for the protection of a bodyguard like Iron Man. Steve had heard rumours about why Iron Man existed in the first place, but no one knew what (and if) these stories were true. Mr. Stark himself only smiled and expertly evaded the subject whenever it came up.

Together, they quickly hurried along the hallways, having to turn around once or twice because they ended up in a dead end. Steve carefully checked if there was any sign of Ant-Man and the Wasp somewhere, but he couldn’t find anything. Maybe they really had been lucky and never been captured in the first place. That would be at least one good thing in this messy situation. They only met were two more patrols, but neither of them were any match for Steve. They were down and out within seconds, they didn’t even have the time to lift their weapons. Steve worried about that. Breaking out of here was almost too easy.

“The entrance!” Mr. Stark called out, and yes, he was right. A large gate was in front of them, apparently unguarded. Steve breathed a sigh of relief. They would make it out. He would bring them back.

Leaving Mr. Stark to wait in a dark corner, Steve snuck closer to the gate (no getting careless now that they had come so far). He reached them without trouble, opened them and…was greeted by the sight of snow? Steve did a double take. Yes, his eyes weren’t deceiving him, he realised. The landscape was, in fact, covered in snow. It had been getting colder in New York recently, but this amount of snow at this time of the year was impossible. That meant…they were most likely not in New York anymore. Nor were they anywhere close to it. If they even still were in the U.S. He waved Mr. Stark over to him.

“Mr. Stark, that gun you have…is it Russian?” he asked, but he already knew the answer.

“Yes,” Mr. Stark answered, staring out into the white nothingness. “You think-” His words were interrupted by the alarm going off.

Steve’s first instinct was to flee. He himself could easily flee through the snow and live, at least for a little while. Mr. Stark, however, did not have the equipment for it, nor had they seen anything that would help them escape while they were wandering through the unknown facility. There had been no warm jackets, no snow mobiles, nothing. No wonder there had been hardly any guards. No one left this facility. At least not without outside help. But if he and Tony didn’t flee, they would most likely get killed. He knew what these people did, he had seen it.

“What are you waiting for, let’s go!” Mr. Stark shouted, tugging at his sleeve. “I’m pretty positive they’re going to kill us if they get us into their hands!”

It was madness, Steve knew, but Mr. Stark’s determination swapped over to him, and he followed him out into the snow. After a few minutes, they were lost in the endlessly white landscape.

* * *

 

They had been walking through this white desert for god knows how long, with no idea where they were actually heading to. The wind had picked up, and it would likely start to snow very soon. Both of them were only wearing their business suits, and by now, Steve was carrying the gun Mr. Stark had taken with him. Steve had started to lag, too, but Mr. Stark didn’t look good at all. The cold was getting to him, and if they didn’t find shelter soon…

“There’s a hut over there,” he suddenly realised. Cooped up in between a few trees, an old wooden hut was standing, without any sign of inhabitance. “I’m going to see if we can use it.”

“Captain,” Mr. Stark wheezed behind him. “I don’t care if our captors are waiting behind that door, I’m going in there.” And off he stomped, in the direction of the hut. (Steve could clearly see that he was barely keeping himself upright.)

Steve followed closely, gun at the ready. He wasn’t one for the guns, never had been, but right now, he didn’t have much of a choice. He would have given an arm and a leg for his shield, but at least he knew that it was safely back home at the mansion, and their kidnappers hadn’t gotten their hands on it. But still. His old lady and him, they were an inseparable team.

To Steve’s relief, the hut really was uninhabited, and no nasty surprises were waiting for them once Steve had broken through the door. To Steve’s disappointment, the hut really was uninhabited, which meant no provisions, no water, and no possibility that they could maybe contact their teammates. The only thing he found after a short search were a few old, ratty blankets.

Mr. Stark had simply sat down on the floor once they had arrived at the hut, looking exhausted and cold. Steve wondered if it was wise to start a fire. Probably not. Quickly, he stripped out of his own clothes and hung them up, hoping that they would dry at least a little. Then he wrapped himself in the blankets, warming them up.

“Strip,” he commanded Mr. Stark. “If you keep wearing your wet clothes, you’ll get sick.”

Mr. Stark looked up at him with a tired and pale face, but the resolutely shook his head.

“Mr. Stark, please,” Steve demanded, probably rather impatiently, but he was tired, too. “If you don’t, you might die.”

That made him only laugh hollowly. “Oh, I will most likely die out here anyway,” he bitterly announced.

Steve didn’t know what to say to that. Not to mention that he had no idea what Mr. Stark was talking about. So he knelt next to him, regardless, and touched the topmost button of Mr. Stark’s shirt. “Please.”

Mr. Stark gave him an unreadable look, but he didn’t move. Steve took it as him giving his consent, because they really didn’t have many other options right now. Opening another man’s shirt and stripping him out of it felt rather odd (Mr. Stark was, after all, an attractive man), but he ignored the tingling feeling in his fingers and swiftly went to work.

After three buttons, he noticed that something was off. Confused, he opened another button, and when he opened the shirt and reluctantly peeked inside, the Iron Man breastplate was staring back at him.

_Bullet-proof west?_ He wondered for a moment. Mr. Stark must have prepared himself for that kind of eventuality, after all. But that couldn’t be right. The breast plate was way too big and clunky to be either comfortable or practical. He had never seen anyone but Iron Man using a breastplate like that. It was just…it couldn’t be…

“Did I break Captain America?” Mr. Stark asked with a self-depreciating smile.

“You… _you’re_ Iron Man?” Steve gawked.

“The one and only,” Mr. Stark admitted. He was still smiling, but he was staring past Steve, refusing to look him into his eyes.

Steve was suddenly hit with realisation. It made sense. It made too much sense, in fact. Mr. Stark, who was so very much involved in the Avengers, who supported them in every way he could. Who always knew when he had to be there to help and support them. Who was distant and busy and still always knew just when they might need him.

And Iron Man. Who could always perfectly anticipate Mr. Stark’s decisions and knew all his opinions. Who would always be notably absent during certain times. Iron Man, who had been pressing for Mr. Stark’s involvement in this mission. Steve had thought that he was being overly pushy at the time. That it was rather strange that a bodyguard would willingly involve his boss in such a dangerous thing. But if he _was_ Iron Man, for him, this was just another day on the job. Only in a different function than usual.

“Did…did you ever plan on telling us?” he eventually asked. It was petty, he knew. Especially considering that Mr. Stark was half undressed and shaking with the cold.

“Cap…Steve,” Mr. Stark said, sounding pleading. Steve was suddenly reminded of the many times Iron Man had affectionately called him ‘Winghead.’ Tony Stark had been Shellhead all along? “I always wanted to tell you, but-”

“But?” Steve asked icily. He couldn’t help but feel rather pleased when Mr. Stark curled into himself at the coldness of his tone. What an idiot he had been. The man had played him like an instrument.

“You don’t understand,” Mr. Stark sighed. “Iron Man is a hero. Tony Stark is not. The two should be kept apart, don’t you understand? If people knew I was Iron Man, do you think they would support the Avengers just as readily? And honestly, Steve. If _you_ had known, would you have kept Iron Man on the roster?”

Steve didn’t reply to that. He couldn’t. What could he have said to that, anyway? Whatever he might have said, it would have been the wrong thing anyway.

“Strip,” he commanded instead. Mr. Stark raised an eyebrow, but he obeyed the command wordlessly and promptly. Which clumsy, shaking fingers, he peeled himself out of his clothes. Once he was stripped down to his underwear, Steve roughly manhandled him into a front-to-back embrace and wrapped the ratty blankets around them both. Mr. Stark hadn’t taken the chest plate of, so instead of warm skin, cold metal pressed into Steve’s flesh, but Steve gritted his teeth and bore it silently.

“I thought you were angry,” Mr. Stark remarked when he realised that Steve was, in fact, warming him up.

“Oh, I am,” Steve rumbled. “I’m fuming, really. Lucky you, it’ll keep you warm.”

That make Mr. Stark chuckle weakly.

“I’m really sorry, about everything,” he apologised after a short moment of silence. “I never wanted to lie to you.”

“But you did,” Steve coldly observed.

“I lie to everyone, Steve,” Mr. Stark reminded him. “That’s who Tony Stark is. I sell pretty lies with a smooth smile.”

Steve didn’t reply to that, and the two of them lapsed into an uneasy silence. Steve was quietly stewing in his anger, but at the same time, he also worried how they were going to make it out of here alive. Because whether he was angry or not, he needed to bring back Mr. Stark alive. Would the Avengers be able to find them? And if not, what would come first, freezing to death or their captors finding them?

After they had been sitting there for a while, cold and exhausted and only slowly warming up, Steve felt his anger starting to dissipate. He still felt conflicted, yes. It was…Iron Man was his best friend. And Iron Man had been lying to him. But Iron Man had also always told him he couldn’t reveal his true identity to him, and Steve had accepted that. He had always had utter and complete trust in the man behind the mask, a man who had stood beside him time and time again, fighting against the evil forces of the world. Iron Man had been the one who had supported Steve from the very beginning, in more ways that Steve would have ever known. Because Iron Man had always also been Tony Stark.

He suddenly became very aware of the physical proximity of Mr. Stark. He was his friend. The person behind the mask he had always wanted to meet.

He couldn’t lose his friend.

“The armour,” he coughed, trying not to think about it too deeply. “Can-”

“I’m only wearing the breastplate right now, the rest of the armour is back at the mansion,” Mr. Stark, Iron Man, informed him. “There is a tracker in the plate, though, so it might be our ticket out of here.” He paused.

“But?” Steve probed, because there obviously was a but.

“But when the charge in the breastplate is depleted, my heart will stop,” Mr. Stark quickly mumbled. “You should keep the plate with you, though, the tracker will still work.”

“Mr. Sta-”

“You know, you should really call me Tony,” Mr. Stark said idly. “I don’t think courtesy is really necessary anymore.”

Steve would have disagreed. But somehow, he didn’t have the strength for it right now. And…Iron Man was his friend. The friend he had always wanted to call by his name.

“Tony,” he said, taking a deep breath. The name felt good in his mouth. “What do you mean your heart will stop when the charge of the breastplate is empty?”

“It means that Iron Man only exists because Tony Stark was an idiot and got himself fatally wounded in the war,” Tony said. Steve couldn’t see his face, but he imagined that the same self-depreciating smile as before was on Tony’s face again. “It means that wearing this metal thing and keeping it charged is literally the only thing keeping me alive right now. It’s kind of like a metal heart. It keeps me going.”

Steve took a deep breath. Charged. Iron Man had told him that the armour was necessary, that he couldn’t be without it. Technically, it was only the breastplate that was needed, but still, the armour kept him alive. And now they were stranded somewhere in the middle of nowhere, hoping that someone, anyone would find them in time.

“Why did you allow us to leave the facility, then?” Steve asked. “You could have charged there.”

“Steve, we were lucky that they hadn’t started tampering with the breastplate yet,” Tony pointed out. “If they discovered it, how long do you think it would take them to try and get it off of me? Or worse? I’d rather die out here by my own will than there.”

Steve would have probably made the same decision, but he couldn’t keep his mind from racing. They only had a limited amount of time before the charge in the chestplate would run out. If that happened, Tony was doomed. Steve had made a promise and he also had absolutely no means to fulfil it right now. All that he could do is keeping the both of them alive long enough for help to arrive.

“How long will the charge last?” Steve asked.

“I’m not exactly sure how long,” Tony said. “When I wear the armour, I have to charge it daily. So without the armour, it should be a while.”

Steve was pretty sure that Tony was lying to him and that he knew exactly how long the charge would last. For a moment, he considered making Tony spill the beans, because seriously, they should be beyond lying to each other now. But after a moment of consideration he gave up, sighing. What would it help knowing just how close Tony was to death, anyway?

“When we’re back, we’re going to have a nice, long talk with each other, Shellhead,” he said instead. “And you won’t like one bit of it.”

Tony sighed. “I’m fully prepared for that. Just…Steve. Don’t tell anyone, please. It’ll be better that way.”

“I can promise you that _I_ won’t tell anyone anything,” Steve replied. “But that doesn’t mean we’re not going to talk about that, too”

“Whatever you say, Winghead,” Tony mumbled. Steve turned his head to see him better; Tony’s eyes were drooping. The walk through the snow had been difficult, and now that they were more or less warm and safe (not really, but it was good enough), they both gave in to their exhaustion.

Steve couldn’t sleep, though. After a few minutes, Tony’s head dropped to his shoulder, his dark hair tickling him. For a moment, Steve studied the mop of hair that had been in perfect order during the meeting, but by now looked more like an extremely messy bird’s nest. He felt the urge to card his hands through it and smooth it down. Steve had only seen him once before like this, when Tony had dragged himself up to the kitchen for coffee after an all-nighter in the workshop at the mansion. He’d startled badly when he had realised that Steve was already up and about, and looked a bit embarrassed walking around in dirty clothes and with tousled hair in front of him. Steve hadn’t minded, though. If he was completely honest, Tony had looked strikingly attractive like that. He had absolutely no issues admitting that.

Tony turned his head, his breath tickling lightly over Steve’s collarbone. Steve looked down, staring idly at Tony’s eyelashes. He really was an attractive man, wasn’t he? The face of a man that shouldn’t have to work a day in his life, that got by with a smile and a confident stride. And yet he was here.

Steve wondered what Tony hid under that chestplate.

Sighing, he wrapped himself closer around Tony’s body, and tried to ignore the wind howling outside.

* * *

 

Steve had no idea how much time had passed. How long had it taken for them to get here in the first place? It must be early morning now, and the wind had become weaker. The snow was still lightly falling, however. Which was probably good, it meant that their tracks were definitely gone by now.

The two of them had tried dozing as much as they could, mostly because there was not much else to do and the atmosphere between the two of them was still awkward. Once, Steve had gotten up and snuck outside for a moment to gather some snow that they used as a source of water. Steve’s stomach was steadily grumbling by now but as long as he had water, he would be okay.

If Tony was quite so okay, he wasn’t sure. At first, he had seemed nervous, always moving around a little, never quite coming to rest, even when he was asleep. In the past few hours, however, he had continually become calmer, and his complexion had become paler and paler. Steve guessed that the charge was beginning to get low, but he didn’t dare to ask. He didn’t dare to imagine what would happen if Tony simply started breathing at some point. But the only thing he could do right now was keeping Tony warm. So that’s what he did.

When the first morning light shone through the grime-stained windows of their little hut, sounds were audible outside. Steve startled out of a snooze, staring at the door with tension. Where had he put the gun? Not that it would matter much, because they most likely wouldn’t survive an attack by their captors.

A moment later, the door was kicked in, and a figure that looked very much like Iron Man stood in the doorway, only that this one was silver and heavily equipped with weapons.

“Rhodey,” Tony coughed with a huge smile on his face. “Oh saviour mine.”

“Could you please _not_ get abducted for once?” the man in the armour said, opening up his visor and frowning down at the two of them. “Wow, you look bad.”

“I need a charge, and soon,” Tony confessed. So this Rhodey guy apparently knew Tony’s tiny secret. Steve tried hard not to feel jealous about that. (He didn’t succeed.)

“Let’s get you out of here before I give you a lecture, then,” Rhodey said, dropping a huge bag in front of them. “We figured you weren’t able to get yourselves some weather-appropriate clothing, so there you go, some nice pants and jackets. And thanks for wearing them _now_.” He stared at the two, only wearing their undies and huddled into old, ratty blankets. “I’ll be your air taxi, although I have to warn you: I can only take one person, so I need to make two trips.”

“That’s okay,” Steve quickly said. “I’ll be fine here on my own. Especially with a pair of warm pants.” Tony snorted rather inelegantly at that, and Rhodey grinned, so Steve booked that one as a success.

Steve quickly slipped into the warm clothing, and it was an enormous relief just to wear some halfway decent clothing again. They had even remembered to bring some sturdy boots. While Steve got dressed, Rhodey helped Tony into his own clothing because his movements had become sluggish by now, and his aim seemed a little off. Together, Steve and Rhodey fitted Tony into a harness that Rhodey would be able to carry, and off they were.

They were saved.

* * *

 

A few hours later, Steve and Tony checked into a hotel in Tokyo, Japan. After Tony’s emergency charge had been deemed a success, Rhodey had suggested that they should make a stopover in Japan. Mostly because it wasn’t too far (they were exhausted) but still far enough to be safe for the moment. Steve would have preferred to return home immediately, but when he looked at Tony’s exhausted face, he had still agreed to Rhodey’s suggestion.

Within the hour, a Stark plane had picked them up and Rhodey had said goodbye to them. He told them he would stay there and plan a strike on the facility that Steve and Tony had ‘discovered.’ Maybe that way they would finally make a breakthrough in this awful trafficking mess. During the flight, Steve called the Avengers, and to his relief, everybody had stayed unharmed and had been looking for them before Rhodey had gotten into contact with them. They were now working together with Rhodey and supporting his mission. (Well, they got along just fine without him, Steve thought. He didn’t know if he should feel relieved or a bit irked.)

After they had deboarded the plane, they were brought to their hotel without the slightest hitch. The hotel was – Steve should have known – one of the best and most expensive ones in the whole city. Steve swallowed all complaints he could have had once he saw the bathroom, tough. His aching bones really didn’t complain about getting to enjoy the decadent luxury of that enormous marble bathtub.

He had already gotten absolutely stuffed with food and the hot bath released the tension in his body, so by the time he left the bathroom, his only goal was the bed. Tony niggled at the back of his mind, but he told himself that they were safe now, and that Tony didn’t need his continued attention. Hell, he was still angry at him. Rhodey had known the whole time, but Steve wasn’t good enough for some reason? (He had talked with Rhodey on their rescue flight and Rhodey had turned out to be a really decent guy. Steve would love to have him on the team. But still, Steve continued to be bothered. Iron Man had been his best friend all this time, and now he found out all these things about the man behind the mask. Confusing was a nice way of putting it.)

So he sank into the soft mattress and wrapped himself into the wonderfully warm sheets, and let his mind wander and revisit the events of the past few days until sleep would catch up with him. Just when he was drifting off, though, something scratched at his door. Somebody was tampering with the lock and after a few seconds, it let out a beep to signal it had been unlocked. Steve stayed in bed, completely still but ready to give whoever was trying to sneak into his room a lovely lesson. But the figure…

“Tony?” he asked, surprised.

“Sorry,” Tony mumbled, slumping a little. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“So you break into my room?”

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“And the lock?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow despite the fact that Tony wouldn’t be able to see it in the dark. “You hacked that…why?”

“Old habit?” Tony said, shrugging. “It’s not the first time I left my keys in the hotel room and had to get inventive to get them back.”

“Normal people just head down to the reception,” Steve sighed. “So, what do you want?”

“Steve, I…I’m sorry,” Tony apologised. “Please believe me, it has nothing to do with you. I didn’t want to lie to you. But it would have been better if you had never found out.”

“You said that already,” Steve reminded him. “But what I wonder about is why you think that.”

“Steve,” Tony sighed. “Don’t you see that I’m not the man who should be associated with Iron Man?”

“No,” Steve replied. “I don’t see that at all.”

Tony just stood in the darkness, silent.

“Tony, you’re a hero, there’s no doubt about that,” Steve emphasised.

“Iron Man is a hero, Steve. Tony Stark is a spoiled, rich playboy,” Tony insisted.

“I don’t see it,” Steve said. Somehow, the more Tony insisted that Tony Stark wasn’t a hero, the more Steve became convinced that he really was. He had been Iron Man all this time, hadn’t he? He’d risked his life even though he had no reason to. No matter what might have happened before, he could have gone back to his comfortable life and no one would have thought it strange. Instead, he’d become a super hero and fought against the bad people in this world. He’d given the Avengers a home, these odd people that didn’t quite fit in anywhere else. He’d helped and supported them time and again. And he didn’t have to do any of it. He’d done it because he was a thoroughly good person.

And he thought he didn’t deserve the credit for it.

Steve took Tony’s hand and squeezed it lightly. “I don’t see it,” he repeated again. “For us Avengers, you’re a hero in and out of the costume. I forgive you. I just wish we could have been open with each other from the beginning. You’re my best friend, after all.”

Tony stared at him in the darkness. Steve couldn’t quite see Tony’s expression, despite his best efforts. He wondered what he looked like, right now. Was he happy?

Suddenly, Tony bent down and carded a hand through Steve’s hair. “Oh, if only you knew,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to Steve’s forehead.

Steve sat there for a moment, shocked by the sudden touch. The realisation came late, but all the more intense for it. This…he had been waiting for this, hadn’t he? It had been inevitable, all this time. It had just been his own stupid brain refusing to read the signs.

He had refused to acknowledge that he had fallen in love a long time ago. With whom, he wasn’t quite sure. It was such a messy, confusing emotion, one that had stubbornly persisted despite Steve’s intent denial. He’d wanted it all along, anyway.

Steve pulled on the hand he was still firmly holding in his own, making Tony sway forward. Once he could see a spark in Tony’s eyes, he leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. The beard scratched a little, but Tony’s lips were welcoming. A frisson of pleasure went through his body, and he had to draw back for a moment. “If you’re going for it, the least you could do is giving me a proper kiss,” he mumbled against Tony’s mouth.

“Wouldn’t that be offensive?” Tony asked. Still, he readily took his chance to lean in again and gave Steve another kiss. And another one.

Steve couldn’t keep himself from smiling into the kisses. It was exhilarating, to do a thing that he hadn’t even allowed himself to _think_ aboutbefore. There were a lot of things he’d never thought about. Things he might be able to think about now.

Iron Man had always been the person he trusted the most, and Tony Stark – well, he was Tony Stark. It wasn’t just the women that were competing for his attention; no one could remain indifferent in his presence. And while it was still difficult to merge all these different parts into the idea of one single person, Steve started to like it. _Really_ like it. Right this moment, far more than what he could ever hoped for was right in his hands.

Tony had ended up straddled on his lap by now, and Steve could feel the breastplate press into his chest. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony mumbled, trying to get another kiss out of Steve. “It’s just a little awkward. I…haven’t been close to people recently. The plate’d give me away. I’ve been thinking about heart surgery, but it’s just an idea at the moment.”

Steve’s feelings were equally distributed between excitement and worry. “If there’s someone who can find a way, it’s you,” he assured Tony. He lightly stroked over the plate. “It’ll be fine.”

“You shouldn’t just accept everything,” Tony said, shaking his head a little. “I thought you were angry.”

“I’m angry, yeah, but I’m not an idiot,” Steve replied. “We’re still going to have a long, very uncomfortable talk. But that doesn’t mean I can’t still like you. And well, to be honest, right now I just really want to sleep.”

“Sorry,” Tony apologised, trying to get up and leave. “I barged in here just like that, and-”

“Who said you have to leave?” Steve asked. He blushed at his own boldness, but…it felt natural to keep Tony here. And after all, they had spend god knows how long half-naked and wrapped into each other’s arms on the floor of that tiny wooden hut. Even though that had been different.

He lightly pulled on Tony’s arm, and Tony caved almost immediately. In the dark, he crawled on the bed, snagging Steve’s pillow and curled up under the covers, looking up at Steve. Steve smiled down at him and lightly tousled his hair. It was dumb, and Tony probably couldn’t see him, but it felt good. This was his best friend. And much, much more than that, if they allowed themselves to be. He leaned down and gave Tony a last kiss before he carefully wrapped himself around Tony. It was a bit odd with the armour in between them, but it would do. Shellhead had been his friend all this time, after all. A bit of metal was nothing new.

“Good night,” Steve whispered.

“Good night,” Tony answered.

Steve’s eyes were already drooping, and Tony didn’t seem to be much further away from sleep, either. Burying his nose in Tony’s hair, Steve let himself fall. Tony’s hair smelled lightly of metal, a smell that he was very familiar with by now. A smell that reminded him of good things and a person that never failed to cheer him up.

They could think about the important things tomorrow. Or maybe they could just take a few days off, if they were here already. Tony knew Japanese, maybe he could show him the sights. They could eat delicious food, and they could go look for one of these _purikura_ photo booths he had heard about.

That sounded like a _really_ great plan.


End file.
